


A Dance on the Edge

by Vultoni_and_Arnaera



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: AU: Toppat Masquerade, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ballroom Dancing, Kinda, M/M, No Beta, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Relationship(s), Romance, Triple Threat Ending | TT (Henry Stickmin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26675992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vultoni_and_Arnaera/pseuds/Vultoni_and_Arnaera
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Just go in, gather information on an uncovered Toppat base, and get out. Simple, right?Yeah, of course not.When Henry is separated from the rest of Triple Threat, he ends up running into someone who makes him question everything he believes in.Someone who awakens feelings in Henry he hasn't felt in years.Someone who makes him want to leave it all behind.
Relationships: Charles Calvin & Ellie Rose & Henry Stickmin, Reginald Copperbottom/Henry Stickmin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 126





	A Dance on the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for the new fandom! Yeah!  
> Annnd it's a ship-fic. Some things never change.
> 
> Based on @apprepuff's Toppat Masquerade au. https://apprepuff.tumblr.com/tagged/au%3A-toppat-masquerade
> 
> Let me know what you think. Feedback and constructive is welcome. I'm always looking to improve!  
> Also let me know if I missed any typos.
> 
> Cross-Posted on Tumblr @vultoni_and_arnaera
> 
> Edit 9/28/2020: Fixed tags and typos

_Well this is just great._

His clothes were soaked, he couldn’t reach Charles or Ellie, and he was lost crawling through the vents in this god-forsaken base. This was supposed to be a simple recon mission, how the hell did it go so wrong?

They were only supposed to gather information on an uncovered Toppat base. Well a tripped alarm, a foot chase, and a tumble into a frigid river later, he was here, and all Henry wanted to do was finish this assignment, take a hot shower, and sleep for the next 24 hours.

First, he needed to get of here, wherever here was, and get contact back with the rest of Triple Threat. He hoped they were faring better than him, at least.

He needed to find an access vent so he could determine where he was. Crawling through the vents was a good way to get around undetected but didn’t give much in the way of location. It was all just miles of metal tunnels, so easy to get turned around in.

Henry came to another split, took a left, and yelped as the bottom of the vent dropped out from under him.

The wind was knocked from his lungs as he hit the floor. For a second he just lay there, trying to catch his breath. Nothing felt broken, so that was a positive. The negatives: he still didn’t know where he was, might have a concussion, had lost his only cover-

“Intruder! Don’t move!”

-and he’d landed in front of two guards.

Henry scrambled to his feet and bolted down the hall. He could hear the Toppats giving chase behind him. Bullets whistled past, some scarily close. He ducked down a side hallway, then another, and another.

Deeper and deeper into the base he ran, attempting to shake loose his pursuers. After he rounded a corner with enough of a lead to not be seen, he slid into one of the rooms lining the hall, closing the door behind him.

Shouts and footsteps filtered in from the hallway. Henry pressed himself up against the wall beside the door, his hand on his military-issue pistol. The shouting faded and finally disappeared as the Toppats ran past his hiding spot.

Henry slumped against the wall, adrenaline still buzzing in his veins. He took several deep breaths attempting to calm himself. Relief at his narrow escape swamped him, the rush that came with evading death by a hair as familiar as breathing. A trickle of edging-on-hysterical laughter escaped his lips. He took one last deep breath to steady himself and finally cool the rush of adrenaline.

“Well, if it isn’t Henry Stickmin.”

Henry’s heart leapt into his throat. _Hell, he wasn’t alone. He didn’t even check the room. Shit, shit, shit-_

His whole body went rigid with panic. The adrenaline he’d just calmed shot back through his system. He whirled around, put his back to the wall, and swept the room for the source of the voice.

He didn’t have to look far.

Backlit by a dozen monitors, standing alone in the middle of the dimmed room, with eyes glowing from the light spilling around the door and something else Henry dared not name, was Reginald Copperbottom, current leader of the Toppat Clan.

_Oh hell._

Henry drew his pistol, pointing it at him. He trained his aim on Reginald’s chest and tried to ignore how much his hands were shaking. His fingernails were turning blue from the cold and shivers wracked his body.

_This is bad._

Any second Reginald could raise the alarm, bring the entire facility down on his head. Within minutes he’d be dead, or worse.

But, he didn’t.

Reginald just stood there, watching him, watching him with intrigue despite the fact that Henry was an intruder with a gun pointed at his chest.

For what felt like an eternity they stood there, neither moving. Henry didn’t lower his gun, keeping it on Reginald and his ear on the hallway. He had to be stalling, biding his time for back-up to arrive. Henry waited for any sound of approach.

But all he heard was silence, suffocating in its depth.

Until it was broken.

“This is the second time we’ve met like this, with you infiltrating one of my bases,” Reginald said, taking a step toward him.

Henry squared his shoulders, shooting a glare over the pistol, daring him to come closer. A charming smile crossed Reginald’s face, one that was a little too sharp around the edges.

“Though last time you didn’t have a gun pointed at my chest-”

Henry tensed, preparing for the recoil.

“-isn’t that right-”

He pulled the trigger.

Between one breath and the next, Reginald closed the distance between them. Henry’s stiff fingers lagged a second behind his brain, his muscles taking a moment too long to respond. But that small window was all it took. A hand closed around his arm and pulled, forcing his aim up. The gun fired harmlessly into the ceiling. He wrestled briefly with Reginald, scrabbling to get loose and put some distance between them. Somewhere in the scuffle, he lost his grip on the pistol. It clattered to the floor somewhere to his left.

Henry lunged to the side, following the sound. He wouldn’t miss a second time.

The grip on his arm didn’t budge.

“-my dear dance partner?” 

Reginald hauled him back to his feet single-handedly. A wild left-hook was caught with just as much ease. It was almost insulting how easily he was trapped. Henry pulled madly against his restraints, but Reginald was deceptively strong.

He should’ve been able to break free, but the cold had sapped his strength, left him with only his wits against the leader of one of the most successful criminal organizations in the world. 

One who recognized him, had somehow learned it was him behind that feathered mask.

_This is it. I’m going to die here._

Sick dread pooled in his stomach. Henry knew that someday his actions would catch up to him, would be the thing that spelled his demise, but he didn’t think it would be so soon.

_So be it then._

He would meet his end with dignity. Gathering his courage, he locked eyes with Reginald. He would look death in the eye as well when it came to claim him.

But there was no malice in Reginald’s eyes, no hint that he would bring about the bloody death that Henry was expecting. There was only interest with no trace of anything sinister. He made another attempt to free himself. It was futile. He was well and truly stuck.

“It took a lot of time and resources to uncover the face behind that mask, but it was well worth it. You really caught my attention Henry,” Reginald said, “I just couldn’t let you slip away after that.”

Despite the danger, despite every instinct screaming at him to get away, Reginald’s words made him freeze up. Surely he was the only one plagued by that night, the dances they’d shared, the physical and emotional closeness that still kept him up some nights, even months later. Only his fool heart would hang on to that, right?

He was snapped back to reality as Reginald shifted his grip and began to walk backwards. Henry’s boots slid futilely against the floor as he was dragged away from the wall. They stopped in the middle of the room, squarely under the barely-glowing overhead light. It illuminated them like a spotlight.

The hold on his arms shifted. Thin but firm fingers wrapped around his wrist. The position would be intimate if not for the strength behind it, a vice grip that immobilized his hand. Reginald’s other hand came to rest just below his arm. It clamped down on the side of his chest, keeping him in place. Henry clawed fruitlessly at the shoulder of Reginald’s tailcoat with his now-free hand. 

He was toying with him, playing with his head while his death drew ever closer.

“So, pretty crow, may I have this dance? Since our last one got cut short.”

Reginald moved then, pulling Henry along in a facsimile of a waltz. Henry fought him at every step, trying to pull away, knock them to the floor, something.

Anything to get away from Reginald and the feelings he awoke.

Because with every forced spin, he was transported back in time, back to another dance with him. Music in the air, lights glimmering on the dance floor, a mask covering his face, and those same hands guiding him. The intimacy they had shared in those precious moments were like firecrackers in his memory, the words that passed between them feeling almost sacred.

_“I suppose you bring out the words I never say.”_

How long had it been since he’d felt like that with somebody?

How could he feel it again when the person who awoke those feelings was the enemy and probably hated him?

“I found your mask after the party. At the time it was like a memento, a reminder of the mysterious stranger who danced with me.”

The mask, how could he forget. Henry remembered dropping it in the chaos. All he’d thought at the time was how exposed he was, how he’d hoped against hope that Reginald hadn’t seen his face.

To think that he’d found it afterwards, kept it for months.

Why? Why did he keep it?

“A reminder of the stranger who stole my heart. How fitting that a thief was behind it.”

Henry’s struggles stopped as everything coherent in his brain screeched to a halt. Unhindered, Reginald continued.

“I also kept it in hopes that my dance partner would come back for it. Right told me to let it go, give up searching. And yet, here you are.”

He spun Henry with one hand, guiding him like a puppet on a string, before pulling him back to arm’s length.

“Our paths have crossed again, almost like it’s fate. Do you believe in fate, Henry?”

Is this what a moth felt like, so close to the flame, inches from catching fire, yet still drawn closer? Any nearer and Henry was sure he’d be burnt away. His skin was hot, all chills forgotten in the heat of this moment, of his presence.

“Well I certainly do and let me tell you something. Your place isn’t with the military, Henry.”

Their false waltz continued, each turn seemingly unwinding the world around them. Only they were left behind, two dancers alone in their personal void.

“One of the great thieves of our time, perhaps the greatest, chained by the government. How sad it is to see. You’ve let them clip your wings, but it isn’t too late.”

Henry was letting himself be lead now. His head was clouded with too many thoughts, too much noise. What did he mean, “not too late”? Why did he care? _Did he really share the attraction he’d felt all those months ago?_

“Join me, Henry. Leave your shackles behind and learn what freedom feels like again. The Toppat Clan opens its arms to you.”

Him, a Toppat? Could he really-

No. There was no way. He couldn’t just leave everything behind. He’s worked hard to get where he was, to find a way to use his skills legally. After so many years of stealing and dodging the law, being in and out of prison and on the run, his employment in the military was a blessing. Could he really throw it all away, become a wanted man again?

“The Toppat Clan would value you as a person, not just another operative. With us, your skills would be celebrated, accepted in their entirety, no strings attached. Your criminal past would be a badge of honor, not a stain on your record. Wouldn’t it be nice to be wanted and not just tolerated, Henry?”

Reginald was known, infamous even, for his silver tongue. He commanded the loyalty of the Toppat Clan with his charisma and cunning, not brute strength or bloodshed. Many Toppat leaders before him had ruled with an iron fist, stepping on the corpses of enemy and ally alike to get to the top. Reginald often only needed to string a few words together to get the same results. It was part of what made him so dangerous.

Caught in a waltz with him, Henry finally understood the truth behind those words. He had to stay strong, not be swayed by those honeyed words.

And yet, Henry unwillingly remembered standing in Galeforce’s tent under his heavy gaze. He remembered the anger and disappointment in his voice after his old habits caused the failure of an important operation, remembered being told just how close he was to being sent back to the Wall, remembered cowing under the accusation of “once a thief, always a thief”. He’d given up everything for this second chance, turned his back on everything he’d ever known. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“You shouldn’t have to fight your nature. A thief’s blood flows through you, Henry, and no matter how much you deny it, try to fight it, it will always be there. Join us and you won’t have to resist it anymore. The world could be yours for the taking. So, what do you say?

Will you join me, Henry?”

Henry clung to his resolve, trying to weather the conflicting emotions within him. He felt like a castaway, adrift in his own head. Nothing made sense anymore as he danced in the midst of the storm with the man who made him want to give in to that selfish voice in the back of his mind. 

_Leave it all behind_ , it said. _What’s the government ever done for you? They only want you for your skills and once your usefulness is done, it’ll be back to the Wall. Why not leave now and save them the trouble of finding a reason to lock you back up?_

All the thoughts he’d worked so hard to suppress came flooding back. They mixed with all the others, with the warmth of his presence, with the calamity growing in his mind. He was a butterfly caught in a hurricane. The conflict in him grew. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t hold on, couldn’t do this alone-

“Henry! Henry, do you read me?”

But he wasn’t alone, was he?

Henry threw himself backwards, taking advantage of Reginald’s surprise and slackened grip to finally get free. He caught the Toppat chief’s eye for a split second and dropped a smoke grenade from his coat.

The room filled with smoke as Henry made for the door. He slammed it shut behind him as he skidded into the hall.

“There’s a stairway down the hall to your left. Get up to the roof and I can pick you up.”

Charles’s voice was a lightning bolt of clarity to the chaos in his mind. Without hesitation, Henry took off down the hall.

He heard a door slam open behind him, caught a glimpse of smoke spilling into the hallway as he rounded the corner.

He kept running and didn’t look back.

* * *

“We lost you for a bit there Henry. What happened?” Charles asked over his shoulder. The thrum of the helicopter blades was comforting in its familiarity, as was Ellie’s jacket draped over his shoulders. He pulled it tighter, trying to stave off the chill.

How could he explain it to them? How could he put into words what he could barely understand himself?

Ellie threw an arm around his shoulders, “we couldn’t see or hear you at all. How’d you end up soaked?”

That he could answer.

“I fell into the river,” he signed, relinquishing his hold on the coat to do so. After a beat of hesitation, he continued, “then I got lost in the base. Crawled through the vents, ran from some guards, the usual.”

They laughed at that, the sound clearing the air of some of its tension. Henry relaxed as the remaining stress drained from his body. He leaned against Ellie, letting her body heat chase away the last of the cold. She gave him a fond smile and moved to card a hand through his damp hair.

“Well something in that building must have been messing with our equipment. You went dark on us for a good twenty minutes there, Hen’,” Charles said. Even though he didn’t say it, Henry could hear the relief in his voice, could feel it in the way Ellie tightened her hold on him. He’d really scared them.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he signed

“Hey, missions can be unpredictable. Shit just happens so no need to be sorry,” Ellie said. She shifted so his back was resting on her and wrapped an arm around his stomach.

“Still sorry,” he signed.

“Well apology accepted,” Charles said, “now Ellie, how did you end up on top of the guard tower with a shotgun and a motorcycle? It was awesome. But just, how?”

Ellie laughed and launched into a story involving a stolen radio, an unlocked weapon’s cache, some grand theft motorcycle, and the Right Hand Man. Henry tried to listen, he really did, but the bone-deep exhaustion he felt made that difficult. He gave up trying to follow Ellie’s narration and sank into her hold, content to just hear the lively back and forth between the two people who mean the world to him.

It gave him the chance to slow down and really process what happened back there.

With the fog in his mind cleared, Henry began to turn the encounter over in his mind, scrutinizing every bit of their interaction. Any information he could glean from Reginald’s words could be beneficial to taking the Toppats down for good.

He stubbornly ignored the way his heart flipped at the memory of their dance, of what Reginald said to him.

Firstly, the Toppats, or at least Reginald, knew he infiltrated their masquerade. Did he know that Charles and Ellie had been there as well, or just about his presence? What about their contacts, the three undercover agents who’d gotten them into the masquerade? Had they been discovered, or had one of them turned traitor? They could have a major security breach on their hands and not even know it. He’d have to tell Galeforce when they got back to base.

Secondly, Reginald had tried to recruit him. Unsuccessfully, sure, but he’d still tried to coerce him into betraying the government. He had to let them know about that, too.

Even if he really didn’t want to.

Because Henry could still hear Reginald’s words in his head, could still feel where he’d held him as they twirled in a musicless waltz. It was the masquerade all over again, his head and heart clinging to those moments.

Ellie and Charles had helped him hide his turmoil after the masquerade, but he’d have to tell them what happened this time, reveal those moments that felt so private, so intimate. Some part of him wanted to hoard them in his mind, never share the knowledge of their dance with another soul.

The same part of him rejoiced at his apparently reciprocated feelings. He shoved that part to the back of his mind. It would never work between them. They were enemies, a government operative and a crime lord. Any attempt at a relationship between them would no doubt end badly. But he wanted, _oh he wanted-_

Surely Reginald knew this too, knew he wouldn’t throw it all away to be with him.

And yet…

_“Will you join me, Henry?”_

…he’d still offered.

Henry didn’t know what bothered him more. The fact that he’d caught Reginald’s attention to the point he’d tried to recruit him. That he’d offered Henry a place by his side.

Or the fact that he’d almost said yes.


End file.
